


Bleeding Out

by tastry



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:17:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tastry/pseuds/tastry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fushimi Saruhiko reflects on his self destruction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleeding Out

Fushimi Saruhiko was a vagabond who never learned to adapt to anything that he didn’t learn on his own. 

One: self. Fushimi had gone a long time with caring only about himself, watching out for himself, and thinking about only himself. Self was the noun, the law in which he abided by because it was him _self _that would get him out of any rut that he was in and he had learned to trust no one else.__

His Misaki made it clear that _self _was the only one he could depend on.__

Two: others. Like a tick, Fushimi hid in the shadows. He patiently waited for his stupid victim to walk by so that he may schmooze and suck and devour every ounce of living within his host so that he, the parasitic tick, could keep moving. Others were both his holy water and his kryptonite. He needed others to survive, but the misanthropy he felt was enough to chase him right back into the shadows once he was done sucking every life, every resource out of the one foolish enough to fall for his psychotic charm.

(Ha ha. Hee hee. Mi-sa- _ki _~.)__

There were too many in HOMRA for him to suck at once. There was too much life, too much light, and the intensity of them all burned his flesh and dried his olive sized heart so it was no more than a speck of ash. 

Three: fear. It was from a young age that Fushimi developed his conducts of life. He went through a lot as a child, hopping, begging, staying forcefully or having to warm up to others to be accepted.

Misaki accepted him, if only for a while.

His constant fear is what drove him over the edge, what separated him from his clansmen, him from society, his heart from his ambition. Too many had dropped him on his head, had left him in the streets to _rot _. As a tick, he learned all about adaption and came to the conclusion that he would not be left alone in the cold.__

He would survive.

If that meant leaving before anyone else could leave him, he would burn the mark and bleed into the River Styx, into the darkness of his pact to himself. He would suffer with a smile.

And so he did.

He still does.


End file.
